Flowing

My amma turned 60 on the weekend, and we had the privilege of making it over to be with them not just on the day, but the weekend and a few days after too.

It feels both surreal and perfectly in sync to witness this milestone. On the one hand, I remember my grand mother’s (her mother) 60th like it happened not too long ago. Even though it was nearly 25 years ago. And I have also watched my mother gracefully ease herself into this decade, belying the actual number in so many ways.

Recently, when discussing their relationship with their mother, a client said to me:

I’ve learned that a river cannot flow if it is in conflict with it’s source.

and I had one of those moments that therapists/healers are known to have — when a client says something that feels and looks like a mirror held up in one’s own face, and in fact to the depths of one’s own soul. Sometimes a client conversation heals, and settles something in me.

I use “conflict” very differently from the conventional, most obvious sense of the word here. I have spent too many years trying to move away and carve my own space in being where I am. But the last 4-5 years have been about returning to my source in more ways than one. And oddly, it is in this collapse, this return, this re-nesting as an adult that I have found the strength to be my own whole self.

There couldn’t be a more apt way to put it. And to witness amma hit this milestone felt like a moment to record, to recollect and look back on all that I have received from her as a mother, a woman and an immense source of support, joy and life itself.

One year ago: On missing the offline life
Five years ago: Blend

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